


Memi's collection of Melekseev drabbles

by heyitsmemi



Category: Eurovision Song Contest RPF, Melekseev
Genre: Confessions, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Enemies to Lovers, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mutual Pining, One Shot Collection, Secret Relationship, Sexual Content, Unresolved Tension
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 10:13:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 12,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15906198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyitsmemi/pseuds/heyitsmemi
Summary: A collection of my Melekseev drabbles and oneshots that I wrote somewhere inbetween його and KBH, but never published anywhere. I'm leaving it open, because it's likely I will add to them later (I mean - it's rather positive I will). Each chapter includes and entirely different story, some shorter and some longer, and the summaries before them should give you an idea about whether or not you'd be interested in reading them. The tags don't apply to each and every single drabble, I listed everything that fit for at least one of them.I mostly wrote these just for the sake of writing, but they just... piled up, and Blake kept telling me I should upload them, so there you go, why not share them with the fandom :') I hope you enjoy!





	1. Hate You More

**Author's Note:**

> We are starting with the first one I wrote, I think before I even finished його - I took the basic idea from there, but instead of a crush, I made it to be resentment. I always just called this 'the melekseev angst' one, and you'll see why.
> 
> The rehearsals for Esc are still very much going on, and Mélovin and Alekseev are indifferent towards one another to say the least - until it turns into an actual 'I hate you' type of situation, because they don't know what to do with their frustration and tension. Grudges are being held, harmful things are said - until they snap, that is, and things take a turn.

Mélovin wasn’t sure how exactly it started. He never actually had a proper conversation with Alekseev even to try to find out why they were so… wary of each other. They were just acting indifferent. There was nothing there, not at all, just all this… _tension_.

He figured it was most likely the fact that they were both from Ukraine, and Alekseev was competing for Belarus, and the whole drama that went around it. Perhaps they unspokenly decided it’d be better to not interact at all. However, that quickly turned into… resentment?

Alekseev was just so… _frustrating_. He’d glance in his direction, but never actually say anything, or make the effort to go over to him and try to talk it out – when really, he was the only person Mélovin could’ve been able to hold an actual convesation with. On the other hand, he was kind of glad he didn’t have to… even if it suddenly felt like they hated each other, without even really knowing the other.

Mélovin had to admit at least to himself that he liked Alekseev’s voice. His song was alright. He didn’t seem like a bad person, but then again Mélovin didn’t know enough to be able to determine that. That’s how they went into it, initially. And then it just went downhill.

 

They began avoiding the other, in a way. When they got asked about each other in interviews, at first they would just reply honestly, put in some nice comments out of respect but mention they don’t really know the other, and it was fine - up until one moment, where Mélovin just about lost it. Alekseev jokingly answered to one of the questions about him with ’I wish I could tell you more, but he doesn’t really talk to me.’

As if it was depending on him. Like it was his choice. Like he was the _bad guy_ – it was possible he was overreacting, or that Alekseev wasn’t trying to put it that way, but he didn’t give a damn. From that point on, he _purposefully_ looked right through him. If Alekseev said so… then he might aswell actually act that way –  although he honestly had no idea why he’d gotten as upset about it as he did.

 

Then came the even more childish acts; Mélovin would turn when he saw Alekseev, or walk the other way. They went from respectful nods at each other to completely ignoring each other’s existence. He knew he confused Alekseev, at least a little, but for some reason Mélovin was incredibly frustrated around him.

He seemed like such a good, pure person, but Mélovin started to tell himself that was just an act, and Alekseev was actually _the Devil himself_. Again, he was being childish and ridiculous – but he didn’t care, he wanted to sulk.

„What’s your problem with me, by the way?” Alekseev asked him one day, running into him just after rehearsals. The bomb was dropped, just like that, although Mélovin wouldn’t have ever guessed that he would actually voice it.

„Oh, I’m sorry, are you talking to me?” He asked as he turned to him, his mock surprise so realistic it probably seemed authentic. „Are you actually acknowledging my existence?” He sounded like the biggest jerk on this planet, but in his mind, it made sense. Alekseev _deserved it_ , he told himself.

For a few seconds, Alekseev just stared at him, somewhat startled, confused, like he genuinely didn’t know how to handle negativity. As if he was actually that pure… Mélovin wasn’t buying that act.

„It’s funny to hear that coming from you…,” Alekseev remarked, and again, Mélovin knew he was partly right, maybe a little, but he could _fuck off with_ – „Why are you so _angry_? What have I ever done to you?!”

„You didn’t do a damn thing,” Mélovin said coolly, right before turning on his heels with a roll of his eyes. He couldn’t explain why Alekseev made him feel so furious, but knew he had enough, and wasn’t about to waste more time on this meaningless quarrel. Not like any of this mattered on the long run.

He thought he heard Alekseev call him an „asshole” under his breath, but frankly he didn’t even care to make a comment on it – but hey, he was right; Alekseev really wasn’t all that pure and helpless.

 

*

 

They made a point of ignoring each other’s existence on full force after that incident. Except when sometimes their eyes met at an event or gathering; then they just sent each other the coldest glares. One time Alekseev averted his glance, but not before rolling his eyes. Mélovin suddenly realized that for the first time in his life, he had the urge to actually punch someone in the face. How seriously he wanted to actually do that was debatable, though, given the fact that Alekseev just had to be _so damn tiny_.

He watched some interviews with him, and came to the conclusion that Alekseev was putting on a show - that he was fake. Because there was no way that someone genuinely that sweet would act like this with him… so therefore he was most likely wearing a mask.

But then later, he’d see him laughing and being nice with others.

That ultimately made him even more annoyed.

 

*

 

The next time it happened he was having a press conference. They asked him about how he felt about representing Ukraine, and he subtly added the line „there’s no better feeling than proudly standing out and competing for your country, although sadly some people can’t experience it, or even turn away from it” – he liked to think he was subtle, and as unnecessary it was, he was aware no one would really figure out that he was kind of trash-talking Alekseev.

Except for Alekseev himself, of course. The next time he ran into him in the hallway, Alekseev dropped a comment, all while not even looking at him as he walked past him; „Next time you can just man up and say it in my face if you have a problem.”

„That would require having a conversation with you, so no thanks,” was the answer, offhanded, full of spite.

 

*

 

The bomb, after being dropped a while ago, finally exploded when Mélovin just finished rehearsals a few days later and once again ran into Alekseev on his way out, nearly knocking him off his feet, although this time actually not purposely – but of course Alekseev thought that was exactly what he was going for.

„Seriously, would it hurt to watch your step?” He glared up at him, and Mélovin suddenly had the urge to _actually_ trip him.

„It’s not my fault you are so tiny you get lost in the crowd… much like your song.”

_Ouch._

Alekseev didn’t seem to be too fazed, though, he just squinted his eyes at him – and looked about as threatening as a newborn puppy.

„God, why are you so damn sour and… edgy?! It’s like someone spat in your morning coffee – but like _every day_.”

Alekseev began walking ahead, and Mélovin knew he should just leave it, but he couldn’t stop himself. Every fiber of his being was buzzing with this… this _frustration_. „I’d rather be that than fake.”

„Excuse me?”

Alekseev stopped in his tracks once again, and Mélovin turned to him, a few steps away, keeping much needed distance. „You heard me. You play roles, you act like you’re so good and don’t even know what being rude _means_ , and in reality you are the opposite.”

„Have you ever considered that perhaps I’m only like this with you? Because that’s what you give me aswell?” Alekseev raised his voice a bit now, and Mélovin was not holding back the urge to roll his eyes. „You don’t know anything about me _at all_ , Mélovin! Nor you made an effort t –”

„Well, _I know_ it is pathetic to lobby for pity votes. ’Oh no, I never met my father, please vote for me and then perhaps he notices’!” Mélovin knew he went a touch too far, as he was unconsciously walking closer to him, and saw actual anger and perhaps even hurt in his eyes. He immediately opened his mouth to apologize for the last part, but Alekseev made him change his mind in the next second.

He also walked a bit closer, and for a second Mélovin thought he might actually hit him – not quite what he expected. „Funny to hear that from you, Mr. ’Oh I’ll tell people I have social phobia just so I don’t have to talk to them, because they’d immediately find out I’m just an inconsiderate, insufferable _dick_ – ”

„Fuck you!”

„Fuck _you_!”

Mélovin snapped right there. He made the last few steps that seperated them, feet heavy with anger, being entirely sure they will actually have a fistfight at this point – only to do the exact opposite, surprising even himself.

He was right in front of him, their eyes full of raw frustration, both of them somehow breathing a bit heavier than normal, just… barely holding back from –

He leaned down, cupping Alekseev’s cheeks as he kissed him, hard. It was a furious kiss; demanding and full of passion. Raw passion… God, all that _tension_ –

It felt as if a lightbulb just turned on above Mélovin’s head; it was _this_ type of tension. The frustration, the tension, it all originated from this… this _attraction_. He realized he never actually wanted to hurt Alekseev. He wanted him to come over to him, he wanted him to put in effort, he wanted him to be _impressed_ with him - and he confused his feelings for all sorts of childish hatred, and completely unreasonable ones, of course.

Alekseev was responsive; almost as if he’d been in the exact same situation. He pulled Mélovin closer, and Mélovin suddenly thanked whatever entity for their height difference, easily reaching down to lift him up, never once breaking the kiss as he seated him on top of one of the desks.

Alekseev’s legs were instantly around his waist, and Mélovin practically wanted do devour him… until the fire turned into a spark, and it turned into slow, slow kissing, only breaking apart when they were both dizzy for more oxygen.

„Oh…,” was the first thing to come out Mélovin’s mouth, and he didn’t expect Alekseev to subtly chuckle in response, but there they were.

„So is this how you usually act with people you hate?” Alekseev asked, and Mélovin captured his lower lip in response, biting down on it gently before pulling back.

„Don’t push it,” he whispered, but was grinning the whole time – just like Alekseev.

„I don’t hate you…,” he added after a few seconds, making Alekseev grin even wider… oh damn him. „I really _, really_ don’t.”

„I don’t, either,” Alekseev looked right into his eyes, and for a second, Mélovin was pretty sure he could get lost in them. „I know I said some things, but I – ”

„No, it’s okay,” Mélovin cut him off immediately. „I didn’t mean any of that either…”

„Oh, I meant every single one!” Alekseev said, eyes wide with honesty – until he started laughing.

„Oh, oh right…is that so…?” Mélovin silenced him with another kiss, much more gently this time.

Alekseev let out a small sigh after, practically glaring at him, although there was no sign of actual negativity in his eyes. „Kostyantyn… now how am I supposed to handle you being nice to me?”

Mélovin laughed this time – they both did, really, and he tried not to show how effected he was from hearing Alekseev call him his name. „It’s okay… you’ll get used to it, Nikita.”

He pulled back with a wink and a smirk, leaving Alekseev behind as he was shaking his head while watching him exit the room.

„I’ll see you after your rehearsals!” Mélovin yelled once he was out the room, laughing to himself.

It was not something he expected at all. But goddamn, was he pleased with himself! Honestly, if he had to pick between fighting with Alekseev or making out with Alekseev… he’d choose the latter a hundred times.

And knowing it might even get them somewhere… that was a big bonus.


	2. A Rose For Comfort

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, this is the one I wrote right after Alekseev failed to qualify, and I needed to comfort myself - and Blake. And we both wanted Nikita to be comforted aswell, so this was born.
> 
> It's a short one; Mélovin goes to see him right after the first semi final, and attempts to make him feel better, to cheer him up as much as possible. He does manage to comfort him - and maybe even more.

Mélovin made his way to Alekseev’s hotel room with heavy steps. He generally felt closest to him, perhaps because there was no language barrier between them, or maybe because Alekseev was such a nice person, although they still didn’t talk _as much_ as Mélovin wished – and now he feared he lost that chance for good. He was upset. He knew the first semi final would be a bloodbath, but somehow he wasn’t prepared for him not making it through.

He knocked twice… he didn’t have a solid plan about what he wanted to say or anything, he just knew he hated the idea of _not_ coming to see him. When Alekseev opened the door, Mélovin was thankful he didn’t see the signs of utter despair or anything; one thing he noticed these past few days was that Alekseev had the brightest, warmest smile – he didn’t want him to lose that.

Alekseev’s features only displayed slight – but seemingly pleasant – surprise upon seeing him, blinking a few, but greeting him with a small smile anyway. It was definitely not as bright as what he was used to. Mélovin’s heart twisted a little.

„Mélovin?” His voice was soft, as always. He didn’t deduce anything that implied he might’ve been – god forbid – crying.

„Hey! I just wanted to see how you were doing,” he didn’t want him to feel like he was pitying him though – he honestly believed Alekseev deserved to go through, and therefore he decided to go for a different approach. „Because I feel utterly let down, so I figured we can sit down and talk about how deaf people are!” He offered with a shrug, and there it was; still a small, but a smile nontheless appeared on Alekseev’s face. He stepped away to let him in.

Once they were seated on the couch, Mélovin pulled out a rose that he was hiding behind his back up until then, taking it on impulse while making his way there; „Anyway, for you!” He announced, holding it out for him, watching Alekseev’s reaction. „Or is this too soon?”

The way Alekseev instantly tried to stop himself from laughing made Mélovin grin; „Listen, please appreciate it, I stole it for you from the reception.”

There it was; Alekseev laughed, really laughed, and Mélovin laughed with him. He took it, afterall, and even mumbled a soft ’thank you’.

„So you don’t think my performance was too… extra?”

„You’re not seriously asking this from the guy who will rise up from his piano-coffin, and will proceed to set it on fire, are you?” Alekseev’s attempts to hide his smiles were rather endearing.

„How are you holding up, though?” He asked, moving so he was facing him while sitting.

Alekseev shrugged. „I’m okay. I knew it would be very difficult… and I’m really happy for everyone who got through.” Polite and sweet as always.

„Well, I’m absolutely outraged!” Mélovin announced, watching as the corners of Alekseev’s lips twitched as he tried to hide his smile yet again. „This might make me sound like a dick, but I think there was some serious injustice happening, and I’ve concluded that people are stupid and music is dead.”

Alekseev gave him an amused look. „Oh, come on!”

„It was one of my favorite performances of the night by far, so let me sulk, Nikita!”

He made him chuckle again, and that was more than enough for Mélovin. „There’s that smile… I was worried about it.” He said in a gentle tone, immediately getting Alekseev’s attention. They locked eyes for a moment.

„I think I’m only worried…” Alekseev began, tearing his eyes from him, his voice breaking just a little. „That I disappointed Belarus. Or even Ukraine, I’m –”

Oh, hell no.

Mélovin reached out with one hand to grab his face, and made it so Alekseev was looking at him – except he wasn’t, he stared down, avoiding eye contact; probably because he’s gotten a little emotional. God, Mélovin wanted to hurt everyone who hurt him right back.

„That’s nonsense, Nikita! I already saw people expressing support, and saying they are proud of you, and I know they are. You did amazing, and they know that, too. You definitely _did not_ disappoint them.” He spoke softly, but without leaving him place to disagree. Alekseev eventually looked at him, and that’s when their close proximity became obvious.

„They’re… people are just idiots.” Mélovin continued, though he was distracted by him now, and didn’t even notice when his hand slipped down from his cheek to his neck, thumb gently brushing over part of his jawline… he didn’t know what was happening, he felt entranced. Alekseev’s eyes completely captured his own… his lips were parted and Mélovin suddenly had trouble looking away from them.

Everything happened so fast, his mind couldn’t even catch up; in the next second, they were even closer, he felt Alekseev’s breath against his skin, but he somehow didn’t stop talking; „They… don’t appreciate art, j-just – ” he felt Alekseev’s lips brushing against his cheek, and he tripped over his words. Alekseev, meanwhile, hummed questioningly, his lips tracing dangerously close to his lips. Mélovin quite literally gulped, his voice still wavering as he continued.

„Y-Yeah, I will never underst – _oh_ …!” As soon as he felt Alekseev’s lips brush against his own – but nearly not _enough_ – he forgot about whatever he was about to say. He attempted to reach and kiss him, but Alekseev pulled away slightly just then, so it was always just barely a touch; and Mélovin could just _tell_ he was smiling. But it was not fair to tease him like this… once he finally managed to capture Alekseev’s lower lip, he felt nothing but relief.

Mélovin was aware of the tension they had before, looming there whenever they did have the opportunity to talk and be around the other, but he definitely wasn’t expecting _this_ to happen; he couldn’t complain if he tried, though. Instead, he made sure Alekseev knew just how much he didn’t mind it. They kept kissing until time ceased being a concept.

„Thank you…” Alekseev whispered somewhere inbetween, but Mélovin just responded with kissing him more.

Later, he ended up having Alekseev in his arms. Alekseev was leaning against him on the couch, and Mélovin had his arms around him, holding him… occasionally planting small kisses on his head and cheek. He decided then that he would always protect him.

„Hey… would you be down to write something together one day?” He asked quietly.

„You mean… like a duet?” Alekseev asked, moving so he could look up to Mélovin, giving him the chance to lean down and kiss him on the lips before nodding.

„I… That sounds really nice.”

Moments later, while Alekseev was quite literally half-asleep – which he deserved after such a day – he mumbled; „Please get in on Thursday…” And in response, Mélovin just held him tighter.

He really didn’t care, though. He felt like he was already given something bigger. But still, for Nikita… he would avenge him.


	3. Nikita

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one was inspired entirely by Elton John's 'Nikita', a song which Blake sent to me, and then managed to plant an idea in my head. I really adore this one.
> 
> Here, they've been close friends ever since Eurovision ended, and Nikita is dealing with certain... hidden feelings which go beyond that, but likes to think he handles them rather well - up until Kostya uploads a cover of a certain song, which feels a lot like a secret message.

Nikita got home after a rather long day, and frankly he didn’t want anything more than taking a relaxing shower and just collapse onto his bed – even if realistically he knew he wouldn’t just sleep yet.

There were just so many things going on lately, perhaps a bit too many gigs and interviews. He barely had time for…

_Kostya. God, it’s a bit too late to call him, huh?_

He didn’t get to spend time with him as much as he wished lately. They grew rather close after spending time together during Eurovision last year, and since then, their friendship – or so called ’bromance’ was the hot topic of many Ukrainian magazines and blogs. Nikita honestly wasn’t even sure where it came from, but he loved it. It just felt like he found someone he can relate to, but also… someone who was different, always intriguing, and… and sweet, and gentle – while looking all cool, and…

Yes. Perhaps he felt a bit more than he should’ve. He liked to think he handled it well, though – he was careful not to let it show, and just appreciate that Kostya was so dedicated to him, such a loyal friend. He didn’t want to lose him, therefore sacrifices had to be made. And if it meant ignoring his feelings… then he was going to deal with that.

 

*

 

It was much later at night when he went online on his phone, just browsing, already laying in bed. He blinked a few when he noticed Kostya uploaded something new… he didn’t tell him about any upcoming projects – not _yet_ at least.

His breath hitched almost immediately when reading the title…

’ **Nikita - Elton John – MÉLOVIN Cover** ’

He didn’t know the song, or if he did, he never paid attention, but the fact that the cover was titled ’Nikita’ immediately piqued his interest. He didn’t realize he was holding his breath until he slowly exhaled before clicking on play.

He smiled instantly, as always, when seeing Kostya… he was just there, looking too damn unreal for this world, with one single piano… and then he started to sing, and the room began to spin.

He paid attention to the lyrics, and at first it seemed completely reasonable, like a normal love song, but something still tightened up in his chest as soon as the words _’Hey, Nikita’_ left Kostya’s mouth. He couldn’t help but automatically assume it was a message… he had to have done it on purpose. To choose this song… right?

As the song went on, he found himself sitting up, paying close attention to every little detail, every word, and every expression on Kostya’s face that he could see. He sang in the way he always did; wonderfully, leaving impact and drawning him in, but there was something… there.

_’Oh Nikita, you will never know anything about my home’_

Something that seemed to be… different than before. More emotions…?

_’I’ll never know how good it feels to hold you’_

He sucked in a breath, and his eyes widened. He felt warmth rushing over him… all over him.

„W… What?” He just about whimpered, barely finding his voice, only to be thrown off even more by the next line; _’Nikita I need you so’_

He might’ve been a little clueless sometimes, but he wasn’t stupid; this was a message. This was for him… or rather, _about_ him. He found it hard to concentrate, but he forced himself to, even as he began trembling with nerves.

_’Do you ever dream of me’_

„Yes.” He whispered in response to no one, voice shaking.

_’I’ll never know how good it feels to hold you’_

„I think you’re wrong…” He didn’t realize his throat felt so tight for a reason until his vision blurred, and he had to wipe some stupid tears away with the back of his hand. Did he really think that? Could it be that Kostya actually thought he was in a one-sided love?

_’Nikita I need you so’_

„God… Well, if you only knew…”

He could barely stay still and continue watching and listening in the state he was in; a sweet mix of shock and other overwhelming emotions… his nerves were buzzing, his heart was beating so fast he could almost _hear it_ in his ear, he didn’t know if he wanted to cry or laugh, and he was utterly, completely shaken up.

He sat there just a second longer after the video was over, just staring ahead for a brief moment before jumping to his feet – getting a little dizzy in the process –  and throwing on some clothes before leaving his apartment without a second thought. He only checked the time once he got into the car. It was past 2am. Oh well.

_I bet you’re awake… knowing you, you would be, for several more hours, even without reason._

He considered calling him, but he didn’t know if he was able to articulate proper sentences just yet. He was glad his hands weren’t shaking and he could drive; he didn’t do it that often, but now he had no choice… there was no way he could fall asleep and just wait around until the next day like nothing happened.

 

Once he arrived, he walked right to the gate, surprising even himself for not waiting in the car until all this stopped being such a great idea. His nerves and excitement were fueling him; and he pushed the button without hesitation, too.

„… Yes?” A wary Kostya was heard through the speaker.

„Sorry, it’s just me!” He said quickly, noting that he was, in the very least, able to speak.

„Niki… it’s nearly three in the morning,” it was more of an observation than anything else, a rather amused tone, without a hint of any negativity.

„Were you perhaps sleeping?” Nikita asked, already knowing the answer.

„Well, no…”

„Then maybe let me in,” he offered, although he already heard the gate click before he even finished the sentence.

He had no idea about what he wanted to say or how he wanted to go about this. All he knew was that he needed to see him, right away. He couldn’t get the lyrics out of his head… that Kostya chose it and used it this way… or how he seemed so… _honest_ , and almost _sad_.

When Kostya opened the door, Nikita just allowed himself to stare for a while; his hair wasn’t styled, dark locks falling in his eyes, and said eyes so incredibly blue, drawing a stunning contrast –

He was grinning; „So what was so urgent you needed t – ”

Nikita didn’t hesitate. He’d been doing that for way too long; seeing him after all this was overwhelming.

He closed the distance between them, tiptoeing just briefly as he carefully cupped his cheeks, doing the one thing he’d been wanting to do all this time; kissing him. Very, very softly.

He realized he surprised him; Kostya seemed to have stopped breathing, and every possible nerve in Nikita’s body was buzzing just from the simple touch of their lips. Has it really been over a year since he developed feelings for him?

_Did you wait this long too…?_

He pulled back slowly, and god, the way Kostya was looking at him… with those dazed, blue -

„I got your message.”

„My… My what…?” Kostya asked, voice nearly above a whisper, licking his lips just briefly. Just distracting enough.

„The cover…” He almost believed he completely misread the entire situation, but the realization on Kostya’s face proved him he was right.

„Oh… I guess it was pretty obvious afterall, huh?” His eyes were now a bit less dazed, and just a little more playful as he looked away for a second… „I take it you liked it, then…”

„Yes… I had no clue that you – ”

„Well, neither did I! That’s why I…” Nikita waited for him to finish, but in the end, he just got kissed.

Kostya kissed him gently, but a bit braver, moving his lips and making his pulse absolutely flip out once more, until he melted into it, into him.

„I needed you too, you know…,” he whispered inbetween, seemingly only getting Kostya to be more enthusiastic. His arms slipped and went around his neck as Kostya held him steadily by the waist, and then a muffled „I love you…” and it was all it took.

„God, Nikita…” Kostya sounded almost pained, somehow deepening the kiss enough for him to see stars. „All this time I thought – ” It was seemingly a hard task to speak and kiss at the same time, and they couldn’t decide which one to go with.

In the end, actions won over the words, at least for the next few moments, until Kostya practically whisper-sighed; „I love you, too,” and then they just went right back to it.

Needless to say, he didn’t get back home that night.


	4. Kiss, Don't Tell

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Nikita and Kostya are facing the hardships of a hidden relationship, where they have to sneak around just to be able to spend some time together; until they get caught in the act by Artem.

„How much time do we have?” Nikita asked, as soon as Kostya pulled him inside and closed the door behind them. He was grinning, that specific excitement glowing in his eyes that Kostya had the pleasure to get to know very thoroughly by now.

He pulled him closer by the waist, smiling. „I’m all alone today, so we have until you have to leave… which is?”

Nikita’s smile dropped a little. „I have to leave in at least 30 minutes, to get to the airport on time.”

It was Kostya’s turn to pout, which made Nikita smile – and tiptoe, kissing his pout briefly.

They’ve been seeing each other secretly for over three months now, but they didn’t _see_ each other as often as they would’ve liked – which included manouvers like this, where Nikita had to sneak away and get to him, even if it only meant 30 minutes. Or in other times, Kostya sneaking into Nikita’s. Still, it was worth it, and they were both equally determined with each opportunity. There were days when it was easier, of course, but they hardly had smaller breaks at the same time. Sneaking was even harder because _nobody_ knew about them. Not their families, friends, neither their teams.

They knew they were risking a lot, but what they had seemed to be bigger than anticipated. Kostya was entirely enamored by the older boy, his antics, his voice, his… soul. He knew he wanted him before he could’ve done anything to stop himself, not that he ever really wanted to. Thankfully, he knew that Nikita felt the same way about him, and he actually budged much easier than Kostya thought he would – apparently he was interested in him since their first meeting aswell, and it really... didn’t take too long for them to fall absolutely head over heels for the other after that.

Right now, it was music and Nikita that kept him inspired, and above the clouds. There was something exhilirating about being each other’s secret, but it also went way above that. Yes, he was being a rebel, he wasn’t just taking bites of the forbidden fruit, he owned it, but whenever Nikita looked into his eyes, he felt like he owned the most precious thing in this entire universe, and the adoration in Nikita’s gaze told him he wasn’t alone in that.

„Alright… I can work with 30 minutes,” he said in the end, just as Nikita wrapped his arms around his neck. God, he missed him… sometimes they were away for too long.

„Hi,” Nikita breathed, that spark back in his eyes.

„Hey,” Kostya replied with a smile, leaning his forehead against his. „I missed you.”

Nikita pulled him closer, kissing him sweetly in response. It was too easy to get caught up in it… Kostya pulled apart while his mind was still functioning.

„Must you go to Moscow?” He asked, like an actual child, and Nikita laughed softly.

„Yes, Kostya, I must. Believe me I would much rather go with you.”

„When will I see you next?” He asked then, using all of his charm, and whispering right against his ear. „Hmm? When?” He murmured, placing a few kisses down his neck, feeling him tremble just slightly, then attempting to mask it with a chuckle. Too cute…

„I… we will go to Baku after that, and then I’ll be back in Kiev next Monday,” Nikita began, all while he just kept placing kisses at every possible inch on his neck. „I-I think that day should work, but we should take the entire day, no matter what.”

Kostya smiled against his neck. He ignored the fact that it seemed impossibly far away – he had work during that time too, afterall. „I will take your word on that.”

„I promise. I will be all yours next Monday,” Nikita reassured, and Kostya pulled back again just to cup his cheeks and look at him.

„What will you tell Oleg?”

„I will be… very creative.”

Kostya chuckled a little. „What did you tell him today?”

„That I felt really, very horribly sick, and needed some fresh air,” he said, grinning, especially when Kostya laughed a little.

„You liar,” he kissed him on the lips again with a smile, and could feel that Nikita was smiling, too.

„We both are… that’s how it works,” Nikita whispered inbetween kisses. „Except for one thing…”

„Hmm?”

„I love you…”

It was not the first time he heard that – far from the first, actually, but it had the same effect every time still. His kisses turned deeper but softer at the same time, and he let out a small little noise before pulling back just enough to whisper against his lips; „I love you.”

Nikita responded to him more enthusiastically, and Kostya grinned, pulling back only for a mere second. „Hell, you completely own me, Nikita Alekseev.”

The look he was giving him; dazed, weak, pure and completely vulnerable made him lean in and kiss him passionately, not even waiting for his reply – Nikita was wonderful at showing it with acts, anyway. They practically melted into each other, his arms wrapped tightly around his waist, and Nikita’s around his neck, their lips moving together in a hungrier way, definitely beginning to turn into something more than a kiss –

The sound of the door abruptly opening made them jump apart instantly, though clearly not fast enough – and the situation was unmistakeable. The fear of being caught spread through him faster than it was supposed to be humanly possible; he worried for himself, but also for Nikita. Fuck, he should’ve kissed him in his room, at least that way –

Once his brain actually caught up, he saw that it was Artem, and only him, staring at them dumbfounded, and for a second Kostya couldn’t decide whether that was a good thing or not. They were best friends, yes, and he was the only person he was actually out to, even if a lot of people already _assumed_ , but he was also his manager, and he had _no idea_ about Nikita, or Nikita _and_ him –

„Artem, this… I can explain!” He began lamely, glancing at Nikita, who was standing next to him, looking down at the ground and covering his mouth with a sweater paw, like a child who was caught doing something bad. He looked back at Artem with a desperate expression. „This is… not what it looks like.”

He was full of shit, and sadly he was aware that Artem knew that very well. He just _saw_ them kissing, and not even lightly. There was literally no way to get around this.

His best friend slash manager closed the door behind himself and then took a few steps forward, although uncertain. „Not… what it looks like? Kostya, you were kiss – no, you were making out. Actually, it looked like you were about to eat Alekseev for dinner. By the way, hello, Alekseev!” Artem sounded somewhere between straight-up amused and furious.

„Hi, Artem,” Nikita mumbled, and Kostya wasn’t sure whether he actually managed to look at him while saying that, but if he had to guess, then if he did, probably just barely.

„Alright, look, we… yes,” Kostya sighed, nervously scratching at the back of his head. „We are… together.”

„Toge – how long has this been going on?” Artem asked, his tone still not telling him enough.

„Well… about three months.”

„… No,” Artem said, squinting at them, making Kostya frown. „You might’ve been dating for three months, but this started at least five months ago. I guess I finally understand what made you so happy lately?”

Kostya shared a look with Nikita. That was a bit after the first time they met… when they started to text… that seemed about correct.

„Look, I wanted to tell you,” Kostya said, not wanting to hurt Artem, to make sure he knew that it was just… „You know exactly how difficult this is, or why we decided to keep it hidden.”

„Artem, you… can’t talk about this to anyone,” Nikita added quietly.

His best friend sighed, rubbing at his temple. „Fuck, I know. You could both lose… so much. And we can’t afford that.”

„So…,” Kostya began, fearing he might be forced to give up something that meant everything. Thinking about it, could he…? No, he would absolutely rebel, wouldn’t he? Even if it would cost a lot… but what about Nikita? „What are you thinking?”

Artem didn’t say anything for the longest moment. „Well, you will continue to keep it hidden. Even more so than this, I know I didn’t tell you I would drop by, but unexpected things can and will happen! You need to be careful, even at home, especially when somebody else has a key, too, or you don’t have everything locked.”

„Wait, so you… won’t tell me that – ”

„To break up with your boyfriend?” Artem grimaced. „Look, this is why you are lucky that your best buddy is your manager. Kostya, I’m happy for you. I do want you to be happy, it’s just… you will have to be more cautious. And I guess I will help you two cover it up.”

He shared a look with Nikita again, and they couldn’t help but smile. Kostya looked back at Artem with such a relieved, grateful expression. „Artem, you are seriously the best – ”

„Alright, indeed, and please keep that in mind! You’ll have to make it up for me for keeping it hidden from me for so many months.”

„Fair,” he grinned, and was even more relieved to see Artem smile back.

And then utterly surprised when he heard him _laugh_.

„… Artem?”

„He might’ve gone into shock,” Nikita offered jokingly.

„I’m sorry, it’s just… now that I actually think about it… why didn’t I consider this?”

„What?” Kostya asked, confused.

„I mean, you two. You really did this behind everyone’s back, fooling us all. You better give your fans some credit!” He was honestly laughing, and Kostya actually let out a sigh when he glanced at Nikita, who just shrugged and smirked.

„God, alright,” Artem said, beginning to move back. „I will leave you two to… yes. Just please call me when I can come back so we will be able to talk,” Artem’s words were diracted at him, and now he was sounding a bit more like a manager.

„Yes, yes…,” Kostya nodded, watching him leave and close the door behind him. „Holy shit…”

„Indeed,” Nikita nodded, walking closer to him. „We got lucky it was just him. He’s a good friend of yours. But next time, _please_ lock the door.”

They shared a smile, and Kostya pulled him closer again. They were definitely going to address this more thoroughly, but not with the limited time they had. Besides, Nikita was right; they were really, _really_ lucky with Artem.

„How much time do we have now?” Kostya asked, watching as Nikita glanced at the clock without moving away from him.

„Mmm… about 15 minutes, I’m afraid,” he was the one pouting now, but Kostya just smiled.

„That’s fine. We will make the most of it,” his tone held a promise, and Nikita’s smile was back within a second, taking his hand as he led him towards his bedroom.


	5. Play His Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING, this chapter contains some... sexual elements? I didn't go overboard, and the tone remains more on the fun side, but it's pretty daring compared to what I usually do. I'm going to hell(?? Anyway-
> 
> The one where they are apart, and Nikita is having dinner with some music executives, and his boyfriend, being bored and missing him, decides to be an absolute little shit which leads to some embarrassing situations where Nikita actually has to excuse himself, and things eventually lead to sexting, and basically Nikita really hates his life. Anyway, proceed with caution.

Truth to be told, Kostya was _bored_. He was bored, and he was alone, and it seemed like the perfect opportunity to perhaps tease his boyfriend a little.

He hadn’t seen Nikita in a little over three weeks, which was seriously starting to take a toll on him, in more ways than one. Their next meeting was already scheduled, but that didn’t bring him closer, and a devilish plan began to form in his head, smirking to himself. It was late… he could blame it on that.

With a swift movement, he tugged off his shirt and collapsed on his bed, only wearing his boxers. It wasn’t something taboo, right? They’ve been dating for several months, and he was _missing_ him. If anything, it should just prove Nikita that he was thinking of him… a _lot_ , even while he was away.

He took a selfie, throwing in that lipbite he knew Nikita loved so much – the picture fully showing off the fact that he was shirtless, in his bed. He smirked the entire time; as he navigated to his contacts and found Nikita, as he chose the picture and wrote **’I miss you’** under it… and then as he hit send.

He couldn’t help it, but somehow even the _idea_ of doing this seemed to have done something to him.

 

*

 

Nikita was in the middle of a dinner with music producers and executives – Oleg’s idea, since he’s been wanting to work on a new, proper album. The preparations were going on these past few weeks, the discussions, the planning… and these people were important if he really wanted to hit the charts again, he knew that.

Oleg normally chose the right people; who gave him just enough freedom while making sure everything was done smoothly and accordingly. They were in the middle of discussing the kind of sound he wanted to go for on his new album when his phone beeped in his pocket.

„Just a moment,” he said with a smile, taking it out of his pocket and smiling when he saw it was Kosya. They’ve been together for a few months now – no one knew, of course, except their closest confidants, friends, and some members of their families. Outside of that circle, their relationship was hidden perfectly – it came with the job, but Nikita wasn’t complaining. Not when he had Kostya.

Or _maybe_ not.

He stared at his text, and could feel a subtle blush appearing on his cheeks. He froze for a few seconds, allowing himself to take in the picture, and the text itself, and what it was implying. This was so unfair… and right now, when he wasn’t alone –

He quickly glanced up, realizing he sat there, just blushing, like some sort of idiot, and felt beyond thankful when he saw that no one was really looking at him; Oleg kept them busy with the producer talk, and he had time to quickly form a reply.

 

*

 

**’Kostya… I don’t think you realize just what you are doing – or maybe you are, in which case you are even worse. I miss you, too. I miss you horribly. But I’m in the middle of an important dinner with important music people, and you nearly made me embarrass myself. Please proceed with caution.’**

Kostya stared at the message with a shit-eating grin. He got him.

„Right, right, Niki… I _will_ proceed with caution, absolutely,” he told his phone, the smirk not leaving his face. Even Nikita couldn’t think that would stop him, right? That sounded a lot like… a _challenge_.

**’Aww, is that so?** **☹ I’m sorry, babe. It’s just that I’m here, all by myself… on my bed… only wearing underwear… so, so lonely… thinking about you, and the things we could be doing…’**

He hit send before he even had the chance to rethink, and eyed their message box as he began to feel the subtle buzzing rushing through him. He didn’t feel bad for perhaps embarrassing him a little whatsoever… this was thrilling in an exciting way.

 

*

 

If Nikita blushed before, he was likely beet red this time, feeling his breath hitch subtly. The suggestive tone of the text was one thing, but the things it made him imagine…

_I cannot believe him!_

He knew Kostya was doing it on purpose – and that he probably felt zero remorse about embarrassing him in the middle of a restaurant if it meant he can get him to react a certain way. It was likely a game to him.

No way. He was not going to give him that, he was an adult, and he would deal with this like a mature person would – he will ignore him until after dinner, if he must. And he would block his own thoughts out, if he must.

 

*

 

Kostya pouted at his phone when several minutes passed without Nikita replying, although he knew that he saw it – his phone told him that much.

_Oh, we can go about it this way, too._

**’Are you ignoring me now?** **☹ That’s not fair, you know. I’m already suffering… But I guess this means that I just have to accept it… and who knows what I might just do now… while thinking about you.’**

His grin was back, especially when he saw Nikita noticing it.

_You can’t ignore me that much, huh?_

 

*

 

Nikita honestly felt rather hot, and found it harder to concentrate while his boyfriend just decided to be absolutely merciless, and somehow even make things worse and worse with each text. He needed him to stop.

„Excuse me for a moment,” he said again, this time standing up and hurrying towards the restroom. It was honestly a good thing that Oleg was there, and he didn’t have to deal with these people alone – and so he could keep them busy while he had a talk with this horrible, horrible person he called his partner.

 **’You should be ashamed of yourself,’** he texted, receiving a reply within a few seconds, not any less flirtatious in nature.

_Oh, you little –_

**’Should I? ;)** **’**

**’This isn’t funny! I had to escape from the table, and now I’m literally hiding in the restroom.’**

He could practically _see_ Kostya laughing to himself. He shook his head fondly.

**’At least that means you are now alone… Speaking of, I would love to escape with you. I would make you forget about the dinner, that job, and also hopefully even about your own name.’**

Nikita sucked in a breath, hating how his pulse quickened immediately. God damn it, he missed him.

**’Oh, is that so?’**

He wasn’t sure why he felt compelled to reply, but he did it before he could’ve stopped himself. He _really_ missed him – and well, there was something about this whole thing that somehow just… pushed him to go with the flow, despite all his best efforts not to.

The reply he got next made him let out a sigh that nearly sounded like a whimper, and he was beyond thankful that nobody else was near to hear that. God, he needed to control himself… but looking at it again…

**’That is so, Niki. First of all I would push you against the nearest wall, and practically kiss every single piece of clothing off of you, but very slowly, and then just pull you towards the bed, or any bigger surface, and make out until we can’t breathe anymore.’**

_Yes, this is futile._

His fingers tapped on his phone before he could’ve realized what he was doing; clearly, he lost his mind, aswell.

**’And I would whisper your name inbetween, in the way that always gives you goosebumps, grazing my teeth against your ear in the process…’**

 

*

 

Kostya smirked – he clearly got him. There was also something insanely attractive about the fact that he _was_ going with it. His heart was thumping practically in his ears as he replied, licking his lips.

**’Then I would start moving against you subtly at first, and then not so subtly, just to hear some of your noises that I miss so much.’**

He could definitely feel himself getting seriously turned on, because of everything, really; the nature of their conversation, and the fact that they were doing it to begin with, the images it brought to his head, the fact that he missed him so much…

**’And I would do the same, perhaps even arch my back a little to feel more of you… I might even start to plead with you, because it’s been way too long, and frankly, I… need you.’**

„Ah, fuck,” Kostya gasped, his vision going blank for a moment there. Just the fact that Nikita was really out there, typing this out for him, no doubt shy and bright red, and probably just as effected as he was… just that mere fact was doing things to him, let alone the images that were on his mind.

**’And I would tell you ’not so fast’, because I would need to take my time with you, no matter how desperate we’d be. In fact, I’d pull back a little, and decide to test just how much you can take… so would you be a good boy and withstand it, no matter what I do?’**

 

*

 

It was kind of ridiculous, how Kostya’s words effected him throughly – there he was, really, _more than effected_ , hiding in a public restroom. He was the worst… no, actually, Kostya was.

**’For you…? Always.’**

_Jesus Christ…_

**’Good. Then you would have to endure a horribly slow handjob… at first.’**

Nikita just about choked on his own spit, his face heating up to a point where he really felt rather hot, having to undo a few buttons on his shirt. He felt like he could already explode as he fidgeted, feeling every bit uncomfortable – physically.

He couldn’t help it… he couldn’t believe himself, or what he was doing, but he _had_ to ease up. This was not fair, and it wasn’t like he could go back there anytime soon in _this_ state… he hated Kostyantyn.

He just imagined his own hand was Kostya’s instead – and just like that, his eyes fluttered closed, and a shaky exhale left him.

 

*

 

Kostya grew suspicious when he didn’t receive an answer as quickly as before – he either went too far, somehow, or…

Or…

He froze – and then typed immediately.

 

**’Babe… I thought we agreed about you being good, but I have a suspicion you are being very bad right now. Are you doing what I think you’re doing?’**

The reply this time didn’t take long, but it made him feel more dizzy than it should’ve been allowed.

**’I’m imagining you doing it for me, actually. Why, what should I… or You do next? Stop?’**

_Holy… christ, that’s so fucking hot._

Kostya bit his tongue as he slid one hand into his boxers, aswell – truth to be told they started to feel a little too tight, and he shivered as he typed back with his other hand, feeling horribly dizzy.

 **’No,’** he typed, his breaths beginning to become a little shallow. **’I’d go faster.’**

 

*

 

By the time Nikita managed to get out of the stall, legs just a little wobbly, several minutes might’ve passed. He washed his hands, his face, and made sure he looked as presentable and normal as possible – and certainly not like someone who just had a _very good time_ a few moments before.

He couldn’t believe what he’s done… fine, yes, he was definitely _relieved_ , but that didn’t change the fact that this was a horrible time. He blushed yet again when he thought about how brave he became, aswell, and how… how _good_ that was, and how intimate it felt, despite being miles apart.

Luckily, as he sat down, the producers didn’t pay much mind to wonder where he’d been, or ask what could’ve possibly taken so long; seemingly, they were having fun, entertained by Oleg. Nikita blessed his presence once more.

„Are you alright? What took you so long?” Oleg whispered, leaning closer to him in the next moment, and suddenly Nikita didn’t feel so blessed with his presence anymore.

„I… it was Kostya…,” Nikita mumbled, shrugging to himself, and no doubt somehow managing to expose himself entirely when Oleg’s huge grin suddenly covered nearly half of his face.

 

Oleg definitely knew; he spent the rest of the evening losing it behind his glass when he held it up to drink – or sometimes simply to laugh, or the menu whenever he remembered, and Nikita hated his life. He hated Kostya.

He already kept thinking about how he could take revenge.

_Just you wait, Kostyantyn Bocharov… just you wait until I get home._


	6. про нього

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> про нього (About Him) is something I actually just wrote last night, where (after KBH and the next AU that's already on my mind) I wanted to go for something life-like, and this oneshot was born. It reminds me a lot of його, hence the similar title. Both in tone, and in the way that this is something I could actually see happening.
> 
> They met in an elevator once, but what if it happens again? To make things more difficult, they even manage to get stuck, which leads to a lot more talking than the first time - and ends with exchanging numbers. There might be something in the air, and as it happens slowly, Kostya gets caught up in it entirely.

Doing Radioshows started to become a more and more frequent thing, and Kostya couldn’t complain if he tried, especially not when he was promoting his newest single, and every possible opportunity to do so felt like a blessing. As always, once he exited the room and headed back out, he felt relieved and excited at the same time. He hummed to himself as he made his way towards the elevator, feeling rather good about how things were going lately.

The elevator doors opened in the next second and he stepped inside, freezing briefly when he noticed the person in front of him; they both just stared at each other for a second with surprise and slightly wide eyes, until the doors closed behind him and Kostya snapped back into reality. The boy in front of him gave him a small smile, and he laughed a little. This was ridiculous.

„This is the only way I ever run into you, huh?” He asked, not quite getting over how ironic this situation was.

The last time he was alone with Nikita Alekseev, they were also in an elevator together.

„Looks like it,” Alekseev nodded with a smile. „I assume you were also doing a radio interview in the building?”

„Yes, indeed,” he answered, and shortly after, they laughed a little again.

It wasn’t necessarily uncomfortable, it was just that… a lot happened since the last time they were alone, back in Amsterdam, before Eurovision even began. He managed to take in his appearance while Alekseev was looking at his own shoes, smiling, leaning against the elevator wall. His hair was styled a bit differently, he was wearing a striped hoodie and dark jeans… his hands mostly hidden by his sweater. There was something vulnerable about that, but Kostya concluded that it matched his personality perfectly.

He wanted to say a handful of things, actually, but he wasn’t sure how to even begin. He really admired him as an artist, and rewatched his Eurovision performance more than once, never quite understanding how he didn’t make it through. The story of their first meeting was also something he liked to tell people about to this day. He smiled to himself when he realized this one could be a fun addition.

The elevator shook a little in the next second, and promtply stopped, the lights flickering for a brief moment before everything went quiet.

_Well, hopefully it won’t turn into a horror story?_

„Did we just… break down?” Alekseev asked, carefully moving away from the wall.

„You’re kidding me…,” he sighed, trying to push some buttons – _any_ button, but to no avail. He could’ve sworn this only happened in movies. Horror or romcoms, but neither seemed fitting.

In the next second, a scratching male voice could be heard from the speaker above them; „We are sorry about the inconvenience, we noticed the problem. We ask for your patience until we fix the issue, thank you.”

„Huh…” Kostya took a step back from the door and sighed.

„Well… looks like we’re stuck here for a while,” Alekseev said quietly, and they shared a look before laughing a little again.

„God… what is with us and elevators?” He shook his head with a smile in his voice. He was more amused than scared in any way, and somehow wondered if this was some sort of mockery from the Universe, if such things existed.

 

After a few moments, they both took a seat on the floor, facing each other.

Alekseev seemed… rather shy, although Kostya knew that already. The previous time they met, they were very polite, and he was just as shy when they basically just complimented each other until the doors opened.

_Except then we didn’t get stuck for God knows how long._

Kostya wanted to make sure he wasn’t uncomfortable, so he decided he would be in charge of keeping the atmosphere light. „So how have you been, since Eurovision?”

Alekseev hummed a little. „Pretty well, I’d say? A lot of gigs… a new single. You just had a new one, too, right?”

Kostya tried to mask how good he felt about him _knowing_ about it at all. „Yes, exactly. I’m glad to hear that, though. I was rather disappointed when you didn’t advance in the semi, as it was one of my favorite performances of the night…”

Alekseev smiled and their eyes met once again. „So I’ve heard… Thank you.”

This time it was Kostya who looked down at his lap with a smile. Yeah, he voiced it quite often, didn’t he?

„Eurovision didn’t go easy on you either, though… But I voted for you,” Alekseev added, and his smile just grew upon hearing that. „By the way, I like the new look.”

It took Kostya a moment to realize what he meant; right, he cut his hair, changed his contact lense and got a piercing.

„Did that hurt?” Alekseev asked, pointing at his septum ring.

Kostya laughed a little, shrugging. „The pain was minimal. Just wanted to change things up a little.”

Before Alekseev had the chance to answer, Kostya’s phone buzzed, revealing a text from Artem. „Ah… my team wants to know what’s taking so long,” he grinned, beginning to type and reading it out loud. „Just hanging out in a broken down elevator.”

Alekseev laughed, and Kostya slid his phone back into his pocket, but not before turning it into silent mode. There was a brief silence again after that, but it was still not uncomfortable – and it didn’t last long, as this time it was Alekseev to break it.

„So do you live here in Kiev?”

„Mm, yes, I have an apartment here. I moved out when it became more necessary for my career, although I still like to spend time at home in Odessa whenever possible.”

Alekseev gave him a small smile, but they somehow seemed to avoid each other’s gazes often. Kostya had a specific suspicion as to why that might’ve been the case, but they sort of did this in Amsterdam aswell, and that… phenomenon wasn’t a thing back then, at least not to his knowledge. He figured he might aswell just address it straight up.

„So have you heard that people want us to work together?”

To his surprise, Alekseev just chuckled, and it was almost as if his shyness disappeared for a few seconds. „Oh, I definitely did. I mean, I understand why some people might be curious about a collaboration like that.”

Kostya smiled to himself, feeling like he managed to break the ice. But then Alekseev shrugged playfully; „Maybe one day we could.”

There was something about his demeanor in general that Kostya found rather… endearing. „Yeah… maybe we could,” he smiled, ignoring the possibility of that being somewhat unlikely.

The elevator began moving in the next second, and Kostya suddenly didn’t know whether he was happy about that or not.

„Looks like they fixed it,” Alekseev said as they began to stand up again.

Kostya was wondering if they had some sort of hidden camera planted in there somewhere, because the timing seemed just perfect.

The thought that came to him was sudden, and he opened his mouth to talk before he could’ve stopped himself. „Hey, Alekseev?”

Alekseev turned back to him, eyes curious. Kostya considered saying something else than what he originally thought of, but he didn’t change his mind in the end. „Could you maybe… give me your number?”

There was silence, again, for a second, as Alekseev’s eyes widened a little with surprise, and then as he immediately smiled, glancing down at the ground yet again before looking back up. „Yes, of course.”

Kostya managed to take his phone out, and he rambled some as he handed it to Alekseev. „Yeah, because you know, why not. We can talk sometimes.”

Alekseev grinned as he typed in his name and number into his phone. „Absolutely. By the way…,” he stopped, looking at him with a gentle smile as he handed him his phone back. „You can call me Nikita.”

_Oh._

„Yeah, great. You can call me Kostya, too,” he said, suddenly feeling rather embarrassed, for some reason – he masked it with a huff of laughter.

He watched as Nikita grabbed his own phone, then handed it to him, staring at his hand for a second, then gave him a questioning look.

Nikita laughed a little. „Do you want to give me yours, too?”

_Ohh._

„Right!” He definitely felt rather embarrassed.

Once he typed in his number, and got to the caller ID, he hesitated. Should he write Mélovin? No, he just told him to call him Kostya. In the end, he settled for Kostya Bocharov, then handed it back.

He didn’t realize the elevator door was long open, and Nikita was keeping one leg in the doorway to prevent it from closing since who knows how long. They might just ruin this elevator again.

„Alright, I’ll see you around, then,” Nikita smiled, and he nodded at him as he walked away with a smile. He took out his phone once more to check the name Nikita used. He smiled to himself when he stumbled upon ’Nikita Alekseev’.

„Wild,” he mumbled, before exiting the building with a small smile.

 

*

 

Kostya really had a plan to text Nikita, but then in the end, two weeks had passed and he just didn’t get around to do it. Of course, it wasn’t like anyone was rushing him, or if it was a must to text him at all, but he still felt like he wanted to at least try.

He liked Nikita… there was something about him, and his personality, his music, that felt close to his own, despite them being still so different. He felt like they could actually get along pretty well. Besides, one simple text wasn’t that big of a deal, right? Not to mention that Nikita would likely not text him just out of the blue, given how shy he usually was.

„Alright, whatever,” Kostya shrugged, probably overthinking all this anyway. He searched for his name in his contacts and began typing;

**’walked by a flower shop earlier, and they were packed with roses. reminded me of your performance.’**

He barely put his phone down when it already buzzed, making him raise a brow.

_That was fast!_

Nikita replied with an emoji that was crying with laughter, and Kostya stared at it with a brief smile before another text appeared below it;

**’I would definitely share the sentiment, but burning pianos are a bit harder to come by, right?’**

That actually made him laugh, and he shook his head as he set his phone down.

 

After that, the texting back and forth somehow became more and more frequent, until it was a miracle if they somehow missed a day, and that went on for several weeks. The texts themselves varied from memes through small updates to lenghtier ones concerning music, and then eventually also some selfies.

Kostya wasn’t sure when exacty he started to notice how… _pretty_ Nikita was, he just knew that at one point, he would look at his pictures longer, and notice more and more small details about him; where his moles were, the shape of his brows and his nose, the warmth in his eyes, the curve of his lips.

He also wasn’t sure how he went from acknowledging Nikita as an inherently cute guy to thinking he’s the mos gorgeous guy he’s ever seen, but there he was. But that wasn’t even all, he became painfully aware that whenever _he_ sent Nikita a picture, he wanted him to think similar things.

Somehow he just found himself tangled in this mess, and he cursed himself for it – all while unable to keep it at bay. Well, to be completely fair, he couldn’t help it; it wasn’t his fault if he maybe perhaps developed some sort of a… thing for the guy with time. He had this sort of soft charm that got to him a lot.

But he knew he would absolutely never act on it anyway, so it didn’t matter. That was the mentality he had in mind when he suggested they meet up the next time they will both be in Kiev. They were very much on the friend side by that time, if talking every day proved anything, so why not actually hang out?

Kostya had a firm idea in mind about how he absolutely did not have an actual crush, and how that would not effect anything when they would see each other again – because there was nothing to effect anything.

 

*

 

As soon as he opened the door and was greeted by Nikita’s smile, he realized he was, in fact, more screwed than he thought.

He acted normal, of course, through the whole afternoon, but there were… lingering glances, on both their ends. Sometimes their eyes would meet, and sometimes one of them would look away with a smile, making it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. They made him wonder, but he ignored the thoughts.

Conversation was easy, even despite the certain moments his mind would begin to race, just a little. Nikita seemed to be a lot more comfortable, too, but still just shy enough to come off as an incredibly… pure character?

 

„Wait, so you want a new single?” He asked somewhat later, once their plans came up.

„Yeah, and you know… I’m not really a _great_ writer. We are looking into options, but so far none of them really fit. They don’t capture the kind of essence that I’m looking for, somehow,” Nikita sighed, and Kostya frowned, an idea already forming in his head.

„I… I could write for you?” Kostya meant it as an offer, but somehow it came out as a question.

Nikita’s eyes widened as he turned to him. „What?”

„I mean it!” He said, sitting up properly. „Look, I enjoy writing music. I could compose something for you, and write the lyrics. At least for one song, I would… gladly do that.”

„You… I can’t let you do that, you are so busy to begin with – ”

„It’s fine!” He interrupted. „Just let me write something for you, and if you don’t like it, that’s totally fine. Hmm?”

Nikita gave him a look, and bit down on his lower lip, deep in thought, before letting out a sigh – Kostya didn’t budge, he was just giving him that intense look the whole time. „You know I will keep pressing until you agree,” he warned.

Nikita let out a small laugh, and held up his hands, giving in. „Alright, I… thank you, Kostya.”

 

 

*

 

Writing was never a true challenge for him, but writing for _Nikita_ proved to be something else entirely. He knew the kind of sound he wanted to go for, he knew Nikita’s style, the ranges of his voice, the kind of melodies that would fit him. He settled for a pop ballad, figuring that if Nikita does end up liking it, he can go about performing it more ways than one.

It was the lyrics that gave him a real headache.

He spent the days listening to his songs, his voice, with headphones on, whatever he did at home, or even when he went outside. That, combined with the texting and their recent meeting somehow tilted things in his mind rather drastically.

It didn’t take long until he dreamed about him from thinking about him and his music so much, and his dream… felt like a turning point. He woke up breathing heavily, only briefly recalling dark eyes, soft lips, Nikita’s whispers against his ear, and he could still feel the touch of his fingertips all over his skin. He… was fucked.

_That’s just entirely wonderful…_

He had one more dream about him, a few nights later, when their texting ended with something that could _almost_ be called flirting, if someone were to squint at it really hard. He re-read the last parts before falling asleep, so he blamed it on that… and that damn song in the making.

**’writing for you is harder than anticipated. and before you say, no, i will not back down.’**

**’Alright, I won’t ask you to do that. How about this: why is it harder than usual?’**

**’why do you think?’**

**’Perhaps because our styles are so different?’**

**’no, i don’t think that’s why. i think this feels more… important. than just writing for myself.’**

**’I can see how writing for others might put more pressure on people.’**

**’no, i think… it’s because i’m writing it for you.’**

**’So… I’m important?’**

**’yes, or at least your reaction is, so overall, it is your fault.’**

**’I gladly take that… :)’**

**’good. you better.’**

Then he proceeded to dream about them having that conversation in person, with him somehow managing to say all that while he was hugging Nikita from behind, resting his chin on his shoulder. It ended with Nikita turning and wrapping his arms around his neck, but he woke up before they could’ve kissed this time – which he was disappointed by.

He was really, really fucked.

 

In a way it felt like the more he listened to his music, the more he began to wish it was him Nikita would sing about – and that was honestly very foolish of him. Still, he listened, and his mind wandered, and he came to the conclusion that he was way past a crush. He selfishly wished he could have all of Nikita’s love to himself.

 

When he actually began to write down the lyrics, he decided to just let things happen. Nikita might not sing about him, but he can write _about_ Nikita. He knew it might be risky when he was writing it directly for him to sing and use, but he also realized what his problem was, and what took so impossibly long; he could only write honestly.

So he did. He wrote down all the phrases that wanted to come out, and matched them with the music, with the melody;

 

_Forbidden love_

_I’m dreaming about you_

_Yearning in secret_

_And you don’t even know_

_Forbidden love_

_I’m thinking about you_

_Holding back, helpless_

_And I just want to be yours_

Once he had the chorus, everything else was easy, although the lyrics were far from subtle. He sighed, deciding he won’t back down after all this. He recorded the music, he went over the lyrics one more time, and sent it all to his e-mail address. Well, he did his work.

He tried not to stress about it too much – Nikita had a lot of love songs, afterall. He could think Kostya was just trying to follow that pattern.

_Except I literally told him I’m specifically finding it harder to write, because it is for him…_

He groaned, and allowed his head to dramatically collapse onto his piano.

 

 

*

 

Kostya thought about a handful of ways in which Nikita would give him a feedback about the song he wrote, but finding him at his door later that night was definitely not one of those.

„Nikita?” He asked, almost worried that he came here to specifically tell him to never talk to him again, no matter how uncharacteristic that should’ve seemed logically – and logic was something Kostya didn’t have a whole lot of lately.

Nikita’s expression was hard to read, but he seemed… rather different than usual. He didn’t hide his gaze, he was looking straight at him, and those dark orbs practically grabbed him by his soul. It took several moments until he actually opened his mouth to talk, in which Kostya began to feel his panic levels rising a little.

„Did you write the song about me?”

_Oh, fuck._

He expected Nikita to be sharp about it, but perhaps not to _this_ extent. He also definitely didn’t expect him to ask him that, let alone face to face, if he did figure it out.

„What? I don’t know what you mean,” he didn’t have anything better – he had to play dumb.

„I meant…,” Nikita began, slower this time, and Kostya could actually detect a somewhat playful tone in his voice. „Did you write the song about me?”

„… You won’t just let me get away with this, ri –”

„Nope,” Nikita answered simply, not even letting him finish.

_Of course._

„Look, I mean…,” he fidgeted a little, feeling himself beginning to blush, which was not acceptable. „Yes, you know, I was writing it _for_ you, and so I _had_ to think about y – ”

This time, when Nikita interrupted him, it was entirely different in nature.

Kostya was busy looking everywhere else but him, so he didn’t notice in time that Nikita took a step closer to him, just that he tiptoed and he began to lean in, but once he did, he immediately leaned down a little to meet him halfway.

Nikita’s kiss was gentle, barely a touch of their lips, but he felt goosebumps forming all over his body as they both allowed it to linger… just a little… and a little more.

When Nikita pulled back, his eyes were practically glistening, and Kostya had to take… several moments until his brain caught up to what just happened. Nikita really kissed him, he _tiptoed_ and kissed him, and that… was definitely not like anything he expected.

„Can you play it for me?” Nikita asked, and perhaps he realized that a bit too slowly.

„W-What?”

The smile Nikita gave him in response made him feel a bit more lightheaded than he already was – and it was probably showing.

„Play and sing the song for me, please…?”

 Nikita probably really had no clue about how endearing he was being.

„I… sure,” Kostya said, still somewhat dazed, blinking a few before opening the door wider, letting him go ahead.

 

He had Nikita next to him on the piano seat while he was playing him his song, only a bit further away, each legs on different sides, while he himself was completely turned, so he could play properly. He felt his gaze on him the whole time, and perhaps that just made him play with even more feeling.

Once the last tune flew by, he turned to look at Nikita… and his breath got caught in his throat, because indeed, he was looking at him, just as shyly as before, but somehow with an open expression. His eyes were the warmest he’s ever seen them. Then he smiled, trying to mask it, but not quite managing. „It’s a beautiful song, you know.”

Kostya laughed to himself, scratching at the back of his head. „Thank you, I… you know. It’s for you.”

„Thank _you_ ,” Nikita smiled again, looking down at his hands; the sweater paws were back. „I’m honored. A lot of people wrote songs for me, but no one quite wrote one… _to_ me, you know?”

He smiled warmly this time, despite Nikita not even looking at him now. „Remember how I told you about how difficult it was?” He asked, and then Nikita glanced up at him, nodding a little. „In the end, it wasn’t really. It was only difficult when I was trying to hold back,” he explained. „When I write, I… can’t lie. I have to be honest, and then everything I feel is just… they are right out there in the open.”

„And this time…,” Nikita began quietly, making him smile as he turned to sit the same way Nikita was, reaching for his hands – they freed themselves from the sweater as soon as Nikita realized what he was trying to do. That, also, was rather endearing.

He held his hands, and smiled some more as their eyes met. „This time it was about how… you are my… forbidden love?”

They both laughed a little, and Kostya realized he was unable to take his eyes off of him at this point. „And you are mine,” he whispered, just as he looked into his eyes again.

Kostya bit his own lower lip, feeling just a touch dizzy. „Oh?” He grinned, reaching out and pulling him right to him, until their legs were touching. „I had no clue.”

„My manager said I was horrible at hiding it, though,” Nikita was smiling right at him this time, and Kostya was breathless. He was impossibly beautiful, and was looking at him like he was thinking of the exact same thing.

_Woah…_

He felt Nikita’s hand on his cheek before his eyes even caught up with his mind to see it, but by then he was distracted by his lips carefully pressing against his own for the second time that night – but just as sweetly as the first time.

He moved his lips against Nikita’s slowly, just testing the waters, his lips closing on his bottom lip… then on his upper one… until it became a slow, gentle, but impossibly maddening kissing session.

„Okay, we… we really should have a duet,” he breathed once they pulled apart a little, making Nikita chuckle right agains his lips.

„That might just give us away, don’t you think?”

„Why, you think the song that I wrote for you won’t?” Kostya pulled back a bit more to look at him, immediately regretting it, because… he looked even better, if possible, right after being kissed.

„We will work our way around it,” Nikita promised, eyes falling back down to his lips… God.

Kostya leaned in to kiss him again, both of them smiling into it a little. „Fine…,” he murmured, reaching for Nikita’s hands again, their fingers interlocking right after. „We will protect what we have no matter what.”


End file.
